Dragon System

Chapter 2 – The First Challenge

The city never truly slept. Desmond sat on the narrow cot in his dim room, staring at his trembling hands. Every heartbeat still echoed with the memory of that voice, cold, mechanical, undeniable.

[System Active.]

“System…” he whispered. “What… what do you want from me?”

No answer. Just silence, broken by the distant shuffle of footsteps outside. But then, like a tide flooding his mind, the voices came again. “bread’s gone stale again. Tomorrow, I’ll complain to the baker”

“she smiled at me today… maybe she likes me.”

“that Desmond. I saw him earlier. Talking to himself again. Crazy fool”

Desmond clutched his head. “It’s too much,” he muttered. “Too many voices, shut up, shut up!”

[System Directive: Learn control. Thought Echo requires focus. Channel, filter, select.]

“Focus?” He squeezed his eyes shut, forcing his breaths steady. He imagined shutting doors, one by one, until only one voice remained. “if the tax rises again, I’ll have nothing left”

A stranger’s despair. A single, isolated thought. Desmond’s eyes flew open. “I… did it.”

A slow, incredulous laugh escaped his lips. “I really did it.”

The next morning, he ventured outside. The streets bustled with hawkers shouting, guards patrolling, and children darting between stalls. Normally, he would slink through unseen, invisible. But today, he tested.

He brushed shoulders with a merchant. The voice flared: “…if I cheat him on weight, he’ll never know…”

Desmond blinked at the bag of grain. The man smiled nervously under his stare. “Two copper for a fair sack, boy. Best price in the square.”

“You shorted it,” Desmond said flatly.

The merchant froze. “W-what?”

“Four ounces light. You thought I wouldn’t notice.”

Gasps came from those nearby. The merchant paled, adjusted the sack, and shoved it forward. “Fine. Take it. Just… don’t make a scene.”

Desmond walked away, heart racing. For once, he wasn’t the fool, they were. But the system wasn’t silent long. [Challenge Available.]

Desmond stiffened. “What now?”

[Challenge: Gain trust. Reward: Stat boost + Affection Progression unlocked.]

“Trust? From who?”

[Target proximity detected.]

He turned, frowning. Across the square, he saw three women seated on a raised platform, guarded by armored soldiers. Their eyes were filled with everything but peace.

Whispers rippled through the crowd. “That’s the general’s daughter, dangerous one, they say.”

“The minister’s spoiled brat, look at her scowl.”

“And the other… who even cares? Just another common girl.”

Desmond’s chest tightened. The King’s decree. The forced marriages. Men choosing wives like cattle at the market.

The three women had not been chosen. Which meant they were prizes for whoever dared claim them… or burdens left behind.

[System Directive: Earn affection. Your growth depends on it.]

Desmond shook his head violently. “No. That’s insane. They don’t even know me. They’ll never”

[Refusal detected. Warning: Declining challenges reduces potential.]

The words stabbed. His stomach knotted. Decline… and remain weak. Accept… and risk everything.

A soldier’s bark cut through his thoughts. “You there! You’re breathing too close to the King’s decree. Step forward!”

Desmond froze as the guard shoved him into the open square. The crowd’s murmurs turned into chuckles.

“Of course. The nobody.”

“He? A husband? Hah!”

The guard sneered. “Well? Make your choice, boy. The law demands it.”

The three women’s eyes locked onto him. Each gaze burned differently. The general’s daughter, Lysandra, studied him coldly, like measuring a weak spot on a target. “…pathetic. But maybe I can use him. An escape route, nothing more.”

The minister’s daughter, Selene, wrinkled her nose in disdain. “…is this a joke? Me, with… him? I’d rather rot.”

The last, the quiet one, Mira, looked at him with a strange softness. “…please pick me. Please. Maybe he’s kind… maybe he’s different.”

Their thoughts struck him harder than any fist. The guard leaned closer, voice low and venomous. “Choose, or I’ll choose for you. And trust me, you won’t like it.”

Desmond’s heart hammered. Three women. Three futures. And the system whispering at the edge of his mind. [Affection Quest Initiated. Pick wisely.]

He swallowed. His voice shook, but he forced it out. “I… I choose…”

The crowd leaned in.

“…all three.”

Silence. Then outrage exploded.

“WHAT?!”

“Impossible, he’s mocking the decree!”

“The nobody’s gone mad!”

The guard shoved him. “You dare defy”

But the system’s voice boomed in his skull.

[Choice Accepted. Triple Affection Path unlocked, New Challenge: Survive the night.]

Desmond staggered back. “Survive the night?!” he hissed under his breath.

The women’s reactions cut deeper than swords. Lysandra’s lips curled into a dangerous smile, like a predator waiting for prey to tire. Selene glared at him as though he’d spat on her name. Mira… Mira’s eyes shimmered with fragile hope.

The guard growled. “Fine, boy. Take them. But mark my words, none survive defying the King’s law lightly.”

Chains unclasped. The women descended. And the whispers of the crowd followed Desmond like daggers.

That evening, in his cramped home, silence suffocated the air. Desmond stood awkwardly at the door, three women behind him.

Lysandra crossed her arms, leaning on the wall. “You’re weaker than I imagined. This will be easy.”

Selene scoffed. “Easy? More like intolerable. I refuse to share air with this… this gutter rat.”

Mira whispered, almost shyly. “Thank you… for choosing me.”

Desmond’s pulse thundered. He wanted to speak, to explain, but the system intruded:

[Challenge Directive: Earn their trust before dawn.] “What?!” he nearly shouted aloud.

The women looked at him. “What’s wrong with you?” Selene snapped.

Desmond forced a shaky smile. “N-nothing. Just… tired.”

Inside, panic screamed. How could he win over women who despised him, or worse, planned to use him? But the system didn’t care. [Time remaining: 10 hours.]

Desmond closed his eyes. This was his first challenge. His first step into survival. He had until dawn to turn disdain into something more… or lose everything before his story even began.